


Remember Me?

by Gaydar



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Multi, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaydar/pseuds/Gaydar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After living and dying over and over again, you slowly begin to forget about your past lives. The only thing they have left to remember are faces. The names are just at the tip of their tongue...<br/>(A series of dumb drabbles about cuties realizing they know other cuties, and death.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Annie

**Author's Note:**

> Because I can't keep a story with an actual plot, this is just a bunch of dumb drabbles that use some of the ideas from AUs I thought up. Most of them are about Armin because the main AU in particular had so much Armin in it. Feel free to think whatever you want or create an actual plot for these cruddy little drabbles.

Over eight million people live in New York. 

Some people look so bland that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between them and the next person.

Some are so eccentric there would be no losing them in a crowd.

Some are a decent mix; Not too bland, and not to unique.

Some people might look a lot like you.

Or someone you know.  
  
The chances of you seeing the same person twice and being able to identify them were incredibly small.

I was just walking to work this morning, nothing out of the ordinary. It was winter, but the snow had melted a little yesterday. There was snow built up on the side-walks, and it was just cold enough to see your breath as it escaped your body. We, complete strangers that is, were waiting in a crowded huddle for the cross-walk light to turn white. No one likes to stand around in the cold when they have places to be after all. Today wasn't anything special. Just another cold day. As the light changed from the red hand sign to a white stick figure, people on both sides of the street began to cross. There was nothing strange about this. The light changes, and you walk with everyone else to the other side while letting the opposite traffic pass you on the way. 

Something was slightly off, but at the same time dramatically diffrent about this time. 

I was walking and staring straight ahead, like anyone would do. No one else should have mattered to me.

When I saw the pale skin, I shouldn't have focused my eyesight on them. Lots of people in New York were white. This one shouldn't have been different.

Blond hair shouldn't have stunned me into walking slower than the rest of those who were still crossing. Blond hair wasn't an uncommon thing to see. I had blonde hair, didn't I?

The blue eyes shouldn't have made me stop in my tracks. Why was this person different from the rest? Why did they catch my eye, when not even the most eccentric of people had dragged my eyes from straight ahead of me?

I was being bumped into by people, and some even grumbled and told me to keep moving. That was normal.

But  _he_ wasn't normal. For some reason, that man, who was just a little bit taller than I was, distracted me from everything else.

As he came closer, we made eye contact, but he didn't slow down or stop moving like I had. 

He kept walking, still staring into my eyes as he did so.

Then he blinked and went back to looking ahead, passing me by like any other normal person in New York would.

I turned my head and kept watching him as he walked. 

Not once did they look back at me.

The light would be turning red again soon.

I had two choices.

I could go the way I was headed, and go to work, and ignore the oddly regular but beautifully different man I saw; Never to see them again.

Or I could follow him. I could tap him on the shoulder and get him turn him around.

I could tell him my name.

I could greet him, and ask if we had met before.

I can ask him his name.

Though something had been scratching at my mind, at the tip of my tongue, swirling in my brain since I had laid eyes on him.

I decided to follow him.

What was it that was eating away at my head?

Something seemed so familiar about his face.

Maybe I did know him.

Maybe we were old friends.

I decided to walk slowly behind, still unsure of what was driving me to ignore my usual goals.

The way he walked, and how his hair that was unusally long and feminine for a man, all drove me wild.

Something...  _Something_... I know that there's  _something_ I know about this man.

I was so deep in my thoughts, I had no idea that we had made it to another cross-walk.

The man was crossing, but I had to stop. The timer was running out on the other side.

My eyes widened as I realized what had been desperately trying to reach me this whole time.

I didn't need to ask this man his name.

"Armin!"

I already knew it.

I saw him turn his head slightly as he made it to the other side of the street, but the timer had run out.

Cars went by, and a bus or two.

When they finally passed, and the street-light turned white, I ran.

He had still been there at the other side, looking at me as if five minutes didn't just pass since I called his name.

The confusion on his face was clear as the snow that was beginning to fall again.

Half way across, his eyes didn't look confused either.

They were clear, and that wonderful blue like the ocean he had been dying to see since he knew it had existed.

He knew my name too.

His face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he smiled widely, "Annie!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write.  
> I'm sorry.  
> I didn't even proof-read this.  
> Wow look at the inconsistency of my writing. Breaks after every sentence. Then no breaks for several sentences. Then a happy in between.


	2. Armin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked friends and they wanted Eremin for this chapter. There will be other ships that don't have Armin in it later though, I promise.

If you had another chance at life, would you use it well? Maybe not if you don't even realize that you've lived a dozen lives before.

I always thought about that sometimes. What if I had lived another life before? I never wasted a second, whether I knew the answer or not. 'Live your life to the fullest' kind of thing. 

Normally, when you go to a good college, graduate, and get a nice job that pays a lot, you'd spoil yourself. I didn't care about that. I just wanted to enjoy the small things.

Today was beautiful; partly cloudy, but still very warm. It was a nice change to the rain that we'd had for the past week. Everything seemed very calm, almost perfect.

Something felt  _wrong_. I didn't know what it was, either. Did I forget to turn the oven off? Did the bank give me the wrong amount of cash back? Was it something simple like mis-match socks or my shirt being on backwards?

Whatever it was, I was anxious to find out. Maybe I left the door unlocked, or forgot to feed the fish. Everyone looked fine, too. Smiles and laughter and people talking on their phones.

Nothing was wrong that I could see, until I rounded a corner of an alley and felt my arm being grabbed. Something was pressed against my back. First I felt confusion, then fear.

Be it a taser, or a knife, or a gun, it was being held to my back to control me. "Keep walking, and don't say a word." 

I nodded and did as instructed, being overly careful not to trip and fall over and cause whoever was behind me to panic. For some reason, this wasn't what seemed wrong or off.

Terrifying and new to me, but this wasn't what had caused me to sweat. Who would rob someone at four in the afternoon anyway? That should have been what was strange, but it wasn't.

"I..." For a moment I had forgotten I was supposed to keep quiet. " _Don't_  talk!" The man that was behind me kicked my leg and forced whatever was on my back harder. 

He lead me around another corner, and the alley seemed so much darker. Would I die here? In a dirty alley?

The thought of it scared me as I was turned around and shoved against the wall. 

All of my fear and anxiety seemed to fade away, though. 

The man looked angry, and my question as to what he had been holding was indeed a gun; but I wasn't scared anymore.

"Give me all of your money." So I was getting robbed. I shouldn't have been so apathetic about this, knowing now that I could be shot if the man didn't get what he wanted.

It wasn't just strange that I wasn't scared, what was really odd was that I felt relief.

Did I have a death wish? Was that it?

"Why?" I asked, staring the man in his eyes.  _Those... eyes..._

They were what made me so relaxed, and I didn't feel like I needed to question this. For some reason it felt natural to be at ease when I looked at them.

They were green. Or blue? No, it was a perfect mix of both. 

"Why?! Just give me your money or I'll," He raised the gun, his eyes still locked on mine.

His brown hair looked messy, like it hadn't been brushed in a while. The clothes he wore didn't look much better. "Why do you... need it? What happened to you?" Hopefully he knew that my concern was genuine, and that I didn't want any trouble.

It just seemed to aggravate him. "The same damn thing that happens to everybody else! Life! Now stop fucking around and give me your money!" 

Life? Then why were so many other people living well? "That's a really poor excuse, Eren." 

Yes,  _Eren_. The person threatening to kill me was Eren, and I was  _so happy_  about it.

"H-how do you know my name?" Eren looked shocked, and he backed up a step. Funny, how he was the one backing away even though he had the gun.

Why did I know his name? I know him, don't I? "I just... do." It would make him panic if I said I knew him, wouldn't it?

"How do you know my name?!" Eren was angry again, gun raised and pointed at my chest. Did he not remember me either? Or maybe he felt the same way, and he know how to handle it.

Maybe if I just... "Don't you recognize me?" I lifted my arm to try and reach forward and touch him. "Please Eren, it's-"  ** _BANG_**

No, it had been a dumb idea. I looked down and saw the blood beginning to stain my shirt, and I felt so light headed. I inhaled and stumbled, falling to the ground. 

It was hurting all over. My eyes were wide with fear and confusion, staring down at all of the blood that was coming out of my chest. I was stunned, and I couldn't move my hands to try and stop the bleeding.

Was this it? Am I gonna die? I'm gonna die here. I'm going to die.... "I-I... I'm going to.. di-die... again...." I whimpered, spitting out my blood as it flooded my mouth. 

Eren dropped the gun and fell to his knees. I looked up at him, and just like before, I felt calm. He shot me... but I wasn't angry at him for it either.

"A-Armin?" Eren lifted his hands shakily and pressed them over my chest. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I just... I'm  _sorry_!" So he did recognize me... Good.

Blood was in my lungs, making it hard to breath. I was choking on it and coughing it up, and the taste was awful. But everything felt so okay as I stared into Eren's eyes.

Was it getting darker? I thought it would be impossible for this alley to get much darker without night time coming around. "It's o-okay Eren... an-nother time, oka-ay?" 

Eren shook his head, and there were tears in his eyes. He was realizing how much of a mistake he had made, pulling that trigger. Did he think I would hurt him? Is that why he did it?

"No! No it's not okay, Armin! I'm so sorry! Oh my god I'm so sorry... Please don't die, not again... not  _again_..." Too little, too late, I suppose. If Eren had remembered five minutes ago, there would be no need for apologies.

 _Why am I so tired...?_  Was I this tired last time, too?  _So tired..._ "I forgive you... it's alri-..."  _So... tired..._  The last thing I saw were Eren's eyes, and I wouldn't have asked to see anything else in the entire world.  _Goodnight, Eren..._ _  
_

* * *

Eren searched Armin's body and pulled out a cell phone, typing in 9-1-1 with his bloody fingers. Armin had once been his friend, in another time. He couldn't remember everything, but he remembered enough to feel so much sadness that he had shot him. It was an accident, he didn't mean to pull the trigger. He panicked when Armin reached forward, and only when he saw how terrified Armin looked on the ground did he understand his mistake. Tossing the phone aside, Eren pushed down harder on the spot where there was a hole in his friend's body, "Please open your eyes..." He whispered, slightly relieved to hear sirens. If Armin couldn't be saved... Well, there were another three bullets in that gun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be sad but I wanted the ending to be open so you can think whatever you'd like about it. You can say Armin died, you can say Eren shot himself, or you could say they lived and it was happy. I actually cried though. I should have made this happy.


	3. Marco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever and a day ago I said the next chapter would be happy jeanmarco. Here it is.

There's nothing romantic about coffee shops, unless you think coffee is romantic. It's just dark, bitter bean water, and that doesn't really scream romance.

Working in a Starbucks though, it's kind of fun to imagine people meeting their soul mates or someone else really important over coffee.

No one ever talked to each other though. No bumping into each other and having love at first sight, or people realizing they have the same name and striking up a conversation.

Mostly, people only talked to each other if they were arguing over a spilled drink or getting upset at people who worked at the register for getting their order wrong. There have even been arguments about spelling someone's name wrong on their cup.

Sometimes people flirt with the cashiers, but I think it's just to get free coffee.

I stopped thinking about those little fantasies after a couple of years working here. Sure there are all kinds of people that come though Starbucks because they all like coffee, but you're probably never going to meet anyone life changing.

Today, I just didn't feel the same way. I always give service with a smile, no matter what, but today I felt genuinely happy. Almost too happy.

All of my joy was definitely too much for a few customers today, who were clearly already upset about something and my happiness just made them feel worse. Whatever it was that was making me feel the way I did, I wasn't going to complain about it or let any of the customers make me feel guilty for it. 

"Have a nice day!" I smiled and handed the customer in front of me her cup of coffee, but she simply rolled her eyes, snatched her drink out of my hand, and walked away. 

My next customer seemed just as disgruntled, looking down at the cellphone in his left hand as he read off his order. He looked like another one of those hipsters that took a dozen pictures of their coffee before actually drinking it.

That wasn't a bad thing though; he actually looked pretty cute despite his frowning and the hideous haircut. "And your name?" The way his face twisted, I thought I might have  _offended_  him in some way. 

He closed his eyes for a second, letting out an exasperated sigh before opening again, "It's Jean." Normally people would just think, 'what a boring, plain, common name to have', but I happen to love that name. I always have. 

Every single time I hear it I just feel a little bit better. This time wasn't any different. "That's a nice name." I was trying to be friendly, but all he did was groan.

Just another angry person that wanted their morning caffeine, I guess. 'Service with a smile' can't please everyone.

As I wrote his name on the cup, I second guessed how I had spelled it. With an 'e' and an 'a', not a single 'o'. It was probably wrong. I'm probably going to get yelled at, and make him upset more than I already have.

He didn't even look up at me when he took a gift-card out of his pocket and handed it to me in exchange for the coffee, which he looked at once, and then again with shock. 

"Sorry, is it spelled wrong?" I tried my best to look concerned for him, but I was dreading what he was going to say. It was probably going to be the 'that's not how you spell my name I want my coffee for free' speech. 

I get it at least once a week, and these hipster types would fight with me forever before a manager would step in handle it with throwing them a 10 dollar gift card. That's _probably_ how Jean got the card he paid me with.

Surprisingly though, he wasn't upset. " _No_ , actually. You people usually get it wrong." That  _smile_  just made my day even better. It should be illegal to be this happy, but in a way I felt like I had to see him _smile_.

"Have a nice day." Saying it, I suddenly felt everything come crashing down. Jean was leaving, and for some reason I really  _really_  didn't want him to.

He was gone within seconds, and it was leaving me to feel very empty inside. I missed his smile. Jean had such a nice smile.

Jean.

Jean, Jean,  _Jean_...

Over and over in my head for what seemed like absolutely forever; it was all I could think about, and it made me want to cry. Why? Why did I care so much? Why did I feel like I'd just lost something so important?

I turned around and looked at my manager, who was making someone's order, "I'm taking my break now." I wasn't going to ask when I knew I had to leave.

Ignoring my manager's protest, I ran around the counter and made my way to the front door. 

This was crazy. I could lose my job for this. This was stupid romance novel  _trash_. I'm a hopeful person, but this is too much.

Jean... It was worth it for him. I spotted his hair as he disappeared down towards the subway. That hairstyle, just  _how long_  was he going to keep it? How many times would I have to see some variation of that undercut dyed blonde at the top?

I tried my best to keep track of it through the crowd of people, but he kept disappearing and reappearing in the sea of people, and I could barely keep up. 

We couldn't get separated again, not after all of this time. 

Life was giving me some kind of break; Jean had stopped near the the edge of the platform. He was on the phone with someone now, obviously not paying attention to anything else.

A subway train was coming. If he got on it, and I didn't, I might never see him again. I'd lose my mind if that happened.

Someone bumped into Jean, and he stumbled forward. I grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back, the train rushing by just as I did so. 

His coffee cup fell out of his hands, spilled on me, and fell to the floor. He didn't seem to care that he had almost fallen right into the path of a train, and looked livid. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" 

But I didn't care. "Jean, it's me!" I knew I'd break down crying if he didn't recognize me. How awful would it be to have a meltdown in a Starbucks uniform, probably clinging onto Jean for dear life?

"Excuse me?" No.  _Please no_. I shook my head and gripped his shoulder tighter, "L-look, Jean, it's  _me._ Marco. Marco Bodt. Don't you remember  _anything_?" Please remember, please,  _please PLEASE_  he has to remember.

There was no response, he just stared at me, angry and confused. People were shoving us aside to get to the subway doors, telling us to move out of the way. 

Jean suddenly dropped his phone, looking at me as if I were a ghost. In a way, I was.  _We_  were. 

It would be impossible to remember everything that had happened in the past, but I remembered enough to already know how horrible our fates had been at least a few times before now. 

He touched my face, carefully, like his hand might pass through it if he wasn't careful. His mouth opened and closed, but he didn't say anything. No, instead his eyes started to water.

Jean collapsed onto the floor and started crying into my shirt, pulling at the fabric as if he'd drown in his own tears if he let go. I didn't expect  _him_  to be the one crying. "Jean? You don't have to cry!" 

We were definitely causing other people to stop and look. It didn't really matter to me, but Jean really didn't have to break down like this.

Jean was just sinking lower, until he was just hugging my legs and he was sobbing into my knees. "I'm  _sorry_ , I d-didn't know!" 

I pulled Jean's hands off my legs and tried to pull him up, but he wouldn't budge, he only cried more. It was almost funny to me. "Don't be so dramatic, Jean. I'm here now, okay?"

Giving up on trying to have Jean get a hold of himself, I got on my knees instead and had him look me in the eyes, "It's okay that you didn't remember at first, you do now, right? It's okay..." Now I was starting to cry. 

"It's just been too long." Jean tried to wipe his eyes, but he was nowhere near done crying. 

We were both sitting in a puddle of hot coffee and who knows what else, holding each other and sobbing for what to everyone else that was still trying to maneuver around us, seemed like no reason at all.

All of this, from a chance meeting in a coffee shop? How ridiculously lucky, and even a little cheesy. It didn't matter now. Nothing else did anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *arrives late to the "nearly kill Jean by train" party, _with Starbucks_ *  
>  ** _Boom!_** This entire chapter was written for the sake of a pun. Praise my inconsistent writing style and failure at 1st person POV. I could have killed Jean, and I didn't. I feel powerful. I'm only good at writing sad things so this isn't as well written as chapter 2.


End file.
